The Girl with the Dark Mark
by gwcarver
Summary: It is two years after the fall of Lord Voldemort, and Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger have risen to the status of Aurors. Their mission is to bring in and punish all of the remaining Death Eaters. Fabranger or Hermione/Quinn fanfiction.
1. Chapter 1

The forest was eerily silent except for the sound of dead leaves crunching under the swift feet of three hooded figures cautiously inspecting their surroundings. They were on a mission, a mission that had already gone on for two years, and it was nearly complete.

The one leading held up a hand to signal a stop to the two trailing behind and pulled off its hood. It was a woman, very young to be wearing an Auror's robes. She absent-mindedly swept a loose blonde hair from her eyes with her wand hand.

"Hermione," a male voice behind her whispered carefully, "What is it?"

"Someone is here," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "Pull off your hoods and you'll be able to feel it."

The two figures standing behind her followed the suggestion, as they had learned over many years to trust Hermione's instincts. The removal of hoods revealed a young man wearing glasses with untidy dark brown hair and another young man with bright red hair.

"I don't feel anything, Harry," the red-haired man whispered to his companion. "Do -"

"Shh!" Hermione interrupted, holding her wand up. Harry and Ron immediately did the same.

It had been two years since the fall of Lord Voldemort and the start of the Wizarding Age known as _Pax Magicis_. Because of their valor and crucial roles in bringing down the most feared and darkest wizard of all time, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger all received honorable NEWTs in their subjects and were immediately offered positions in the Ministry of Magic's Auror's Office. Harry and Ron accepted this role eagerly, as it had been their career goal when they studied at Hogwart's, but Hermione was more reluctant. She had wanted to work for the Ministry, yes, but more of a law-making role, not law-enforcing, as the plight of house-elves and the prejudice against wizards and witches born with Muggle parents were still fresh on her mind.

"We're not done," Harry had said to convince her. "Death Eaters are still out there."

It was true. Though most supporters of the Lord Voldemort had confessed and turned themselves in, seeing the true destruction of their Dark Lord, a few of the most dangerous had been on the run, making their presence known by unexplainable Muggle "accidents" as well as Ministry infiltrations.

"We wouldn't last a day without you," Ron had pleaded, taking her hand into his own. She had looked away at this point, but she didn't let go of his warm hand. "Just help us until all the Death Eaters are gone. Then you can transfer and help the house-elves all you want."

Hermione smiled then, thinking how thoughtful Ron was, how thoughtful he had always been.. And she agreed.

Now Hermione had assumed the role of the leader in their group, which Harry was more-than-happy to relinquish. She had done surprisingly well as the lead Auror, as her instincts on the Death Eaters' hiding places and habits were nearly always dead-on. But Hermione's dreams still rested in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the capture of these last two Death Eaters would finally signify the end of her Auror career.

Hermione now approached a seemingly dead tree a few feet from where they stood. She couldn't explain it, but there was something about it that pulsated to her, that showed magical presence. Through her Auror training, Hermione had learned the art of Occlumency, and now she penetrated Harry's mind with an image of him stunning the tree.

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Protego_!" Hermione yelled immediately as the tree fell. The shield charm formed around herself, Harry, and Ron, ready for any retaliation. But as the tree slammed to the ground, nothing happened.

"Bloody Hell!" started Ron, "I guess you can't be right all the -"

"Look!" Hermione said, pointing at the fallen tree which was now slowly shrinking. Harry held his wand up and slowly approached, standing protectively in front of Hermione. This part, dueling and defense, was his specialty.

The tree continued to shrink and morphed itself to reveal an unconscious girl in dark robes. Harry approached cautiously and reached over quickly to remove her hood. It was a young blonde girl, looking the same age as the Aurors sent to capture her, but she did not look dangerous…

"Are you sure this is the one?" Harry asked Hermione over his shoulder.

"Yes," she replied confidently and began reciting the Death Eater's description, "Blonde, very pretty - "

"Well, they've got that right," Ron mused, turning his head to get a better look. When Hermione sent him a scathing glare, he immediately looked down and found his wand very interesting.

"Very pretty," Hermione continued, though still glaring at Ron, "Slight figure, specialized in Transfiguration, left-handed, carries her wand in her sleeve…"

Harry reached pulled back the girl's left sleeve and suddenly jumped back. He swung his arms back protectively against his friends and yelled the shield charm again, "_Protego_!"

The magical shield hummed around them as it doubled a layer over Hermione's charm. Ron and Hermione looked questioningly at Harry, but followed his eyes to where he was staring, and then they too jumped back with their wands at the ready.

The girl's sleeve had been pulled up and a wand had fallen out, but on her forearm - deep and dark as when Lord Voldemort was at his most powerful - was the Dark Mark.

"How is it still like that?" Ron whispered. "You-Know, er, Lord Voldemort is dead and gone! We all saw it!"

"I don't know," Harry muttered, recovering from his shock and quickly grabbing the dark witch's wand. He thought briefly about snapping it in two, but decided that was for the Ministry. Their job was to apprehend and bring them in for their trial - nothing more.

"_Ava_ -" a shrill voice rang out above them, but was halted suddenly by a jet of red light. A body fell out from the trees high above them. Ron had his wand up - he had sent the stunning charm wordlessly - his specialty. Ron waved his wand again and the cloaked body went rigid and still.

After a moment of letting their held breaths escape from their bodies, Harry finally spoke. "And who are these Death Eaters again?"

"Quinn Fabray and Amycus Fabray," Hermione recited, "The last two Death Eaters in the world."


	2. Chapter 2

"_Incarcerous_!" Ron said easily, tying up Quinn and Amycus and wordlessly propping Quinn's and Amycus' bodies against two trees.

"We should wake her up," Hermione said hesitantly, "Get some information before we bring them in."

"Why?" Ron asked, "These are the last two, Hermione! When they're locked up in Azkaban, you can finally - "

"I know," Hermione interrupted, out of habit. She almost always had the final word over Ron. "But there's something…"

"I agree," Harry said, as Hermione trailed off. There was something about the girl, Quinn, that seemed unsettling. She didn't seem to belong with all those dark wizards and witches they had taken in over the years. There was something different.

"Don't tell me she's got you too, Hermione," Ron said, half-jokingly. "I mean, really, I don't think she's your type."

"What ever are you talking about Ron?" Hermione almost-screeched.

"Blimey - I think she's part veela is all!" Ron winced. "And veelas are quite enchanting - I should know!"

Ron was speaking of the trio's first encounter with veelas in their fourth year of school. First at the Quidditch World Cup and then at Hogwarts when the French magical school of Beauxbatons visited for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry and Ron had both felt the bewitching allure of the veelas, but Ron had always seemed especially affected - that is, until he woke up and finally saw Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry thought he noticed a slight touch of pink in her cheeks at Ron's comment. His lips twitched in amusement at the notion, but then turned his attention back on Quinn.

"_Rennervate_."

The blonde witch's body slowly stirred to life as if waking from sleep, but she suddenly tensed up when she noticed the tight ropes binding her body. Her empty left sleeve did not go unnoticed.

"Hello," she said cooly. Quinn Fabray was not about to let her captures have the satisfaction of seeing fear in her eyes.

"Are you Quinn Fabray?" Harry questioned, his wand tip inches from her face

"Yes." Her tone was matter-of-fact. She did not need to hide.

"Is he Amycus Fabray, your brother?" Harry asked, nodding his head at Amycus' unconscious body.

"Yes."

"And you both are Death Eaters, loyal to Lord Voldemort?"

"No."

Harry stopped. This answer was unexpected, and he was unsure how to proceed.

"Ex-explain," Hermione stuttered behind Harry. She had no idea why she felt so taken back. It was as if a tongue-tying curse had been laid on her, but Hermione was sure no one else was around and no magic had been done undetected.

"My brother, Amycus, is a Death Eater," Quinn replied, unphased. "He is loyal to the Dark Lord. I, however, have had a change in heart."

Quinn's eyes pierced Harry's, unblinking. Both were trying to intimidate each other, to get the other to back down, but neither submitted.

"Noted, but the Ministry will administer veritaserum to confirm your change in heart," Harry said darkly. He wanted to be rid of her and her brother - then the world would finally be clean of this evil…

"If you've had a change in heart, then why do you hide and assist your brother?" Ron questioned.

"To stop him, of course," she replied cooly, changing her gaze to meet Ron's eyes, which wavered in confidence.

"Let's bring them in," Harry decided. He raised his wand. "_Stupefy_!"

Darkness fell in Quinn's world, and she vaguely felt the crushing sensation of disapparating as she fell again into unconsciousness.

Quinn felt her body waking up, but she kept her eyes shut. Her untiring watch over her brother, Amycus, had taught her to wake up with extreme caution. He always liked to surprise her with the Cruciatus curse. Quinn shifted her left arm slightly to loosen her wand but found her sleeve empty. She suddenly noticed she was laying on a cold stone floor with an unfamiliar air around her. The whispered voices in the room brought back her memories of what had happened.

"How did she get here?" a male voice asked in a hushed tone. "Her accent - American, isn't it? And why does she look so familiar?"

"Ron, don't you ever read the Death Eater biographies before we catch them?" a girl's annoyed voice replied. "Honestly - do you think the picture is the only thing that's important? The Ministry doesn't give us all this information for nothing!"

"Er, well, Hermione," another male voice said tentatively, "Can you remind us?"

The girl (named Hermione, Quinn deduced) let out an exasperated huff, then began reciting Quinn's history. "Quinn Fabray, niece of the infamous Carrows, moved to England from the United States with her family - parents: Russell and Judy Fabray and younger brother, Amycus Fabray. All are known Death Eaters."

"Fabray, I knew that sounded familiar," Ron said wistfully, reaching back into his memory. "Those were the first two Death Eaters that were caught, weren't they?"

"Yes, the mother and father," Hermione answered flatly, remembering their fate. "They-they were given the Dementor's Kiss. But their soulless bodies were executed as well."

"So now we have the son and daughter," Harry stated. "The set."

"Don't tell me ol' Sluggy's rubbed off on you," Ron joked. "Still sends his owl every Sunday, asking for autographs from the Death Eaters we caught?"

"Yes, and they remained unanswered," Harry said through gritting teeth. The Death Eaters were not to be celebrated or remembered as famous. They were to be utterly destroyed and wiped off the face of the earth.

"She-she transferred into Hogwarts our sixth year," Hermione continued. She did not know why she was stammering or why her wand hand was slightly shaking underneath her robes. Perhaps Quinn was part veela - but why was Hermione the only one affected?

"Really?" Ron said incredulously, "Well, I reckon I do remember seeing her around. I guess we never spoke though, would have remembered her accent right away."

"And her house was…?" Harry trailed off.

"Slytherin." Quinn answered suddenly, sitting up from her laying position on the stone floor. Harry, Ron, and Hermione both stood up with a start, their wands ready in front. Quinn smirked. "Of course."


	3. Chapter 3

"Bloody Hell!" Ron gasped, "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to hear almost my entire life story," Quinn replied, her voice as cool as ever. Her eyes pierced Ron's again, but his gaze remained steadfast this time. She turned her gaze to the hardened green eyes of Harry Potter who glared back at her. Quinn knew from his eyes that he wanted her dead, nothing less. Then she let her eyes meet Hermione's, and they both looked away the moment their eyes locked.

Quinn suddenly realized the sensation of her heart pounding against her chest and a fuzziness in the pit of her stomach. Her cold demeanor and unwavering gaze were usually her first defense against enemies, especially when she didn't have her wand. But now Quinn's eyes were fixated on the gray stone floor and the simple act of breathing had become a conscious effort.

"You-you were wondering about me," Quinn said slowly, gathering herself back together. "Well, I'm awake. Go ahead and ask."

"What were you doing at Hogwarts?" Harry asked harshly.

"Learning, of course," Quinn replied smartly, a hint of smirk returning to her face. "But you're wondering what else I was doing, obviously."

"Obviously," Ron repeated.

"The teachers had to be subdued, as it was the Dark Lord's wish Professor Snape would become headmaster. My brother and I convinced the house-elves to slip compliance potion into the teachers' food."

"Compliance potion?" Hermione huffed, unimpressed. "Apparently they were aware, as none of them ever joined the Dark Lord!"

"No," Quinn replied, finally able to take her gaze off the floor and meet Hermione's without flinching. "That wasn't the purpose. It was only just enough for them to allow Professor Snape to assume the headmaster position without too much of a fight. If we had Imperius-ed them, it would have immediately become suspicious."

"Of course Snape wasn't loyal to Voldemort at all," Harry said, defending Severus Snape at last.

"Right," Quinn answered quietly. "That did eventually ruin our plan."

"And you and your brother ran when Voldemort was destroyed?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Quinn said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He was the only family I had left. When he ran, I had to follow."

"And you helped him kill and torture Muggles and wizards?" Harry pressed.

"No," she responded with resolution. "I did not."

"We've cast the _Prior Incantato_ spells over your wands," Harry said with equal resolution. "We've seen what you both have done. _Avada Kedavra_. Both of you." He spat out these sentences with disgust.

"That is true," she complied. "Though you don't know the context of our spells."

"Amycus tried to kill us," Ron said, remembering stunning Quinn's brother before he could complete the curse.

"And I had tried to kill Amycus," Quinn said. Her usual cool voice had an uncharacteristic hint of remorse, and she cast her eyes down again. Quinn's next words were only above a whisper. "I-I tried to stop him from hurting anyone. I couldn't turn myself in, because I knew Aurors, I knew you would find him and give him in the Dementor's Kiss like our parents. I wanted to give him a quick, painless death. As his sister."

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, wondering what to do next. Ron met his gaze with equal questions, though Hermione kept her eyes on Quinn. Hemione's eyes were soft.

"The Mark!" Ron asked suddenly, gaining footing to prove Quinn's guilt. "Why do you still have it?"

Quinn laughed, somehow heightening the tension in the cell, and pulled back her left sleeve. "Oh, you were fooled by this too? My brother, my clever little brother…" Quinn stroked the Dark Mark on her arm with her fingertips. Harry flinched, half-expecting the mark to come to life and Lord Voldemort to be summoned, but nothing happened.

"Permanent tattoo charm!" Hermione exclaimed, dropping her wand a few inches down.

"Yes," Quinn said. "My brother's invention. Though you can see I've tested it." Quinn held out her forearm for the trio to inspect closely. While the Dark Mark remained a perfect dark green, the skin below and surrounding it were full of faded white scars.

Hermione dropped her wand hand and was suddenly full of pity for this girl. Quinn, who had never seemed to really hurt anyone, who had tried to erase the Dark Mark, who had to resort to killing her brother…

"Hermione!" Harry said sharply, interrupting Hermione's thoughts. "Constant vigilance."

Hermione raised her wand to the ready, though with less resolve than usual.

"We'll see how much this is true at your trial," Harry said calmly, though his calm voice could not fully hide his hatred with anyone associated with Death Eaters. Harry motioned for his friends to leave the cell in the door behind him while he kept his wand pointed at Quinn. She sat there motionless with her eyes locked with Harry's. She was not a Death Eater, but she was still a Fabray, and Fabrays never relented.

When Harry finally turned away to exit the cell, Quinn looked through the cell bars and noticed Hermione was still there with her eyes on Quinn. Whether Hermione was watching for Harry's protection, or whether it was for another reason altogether, Quinn couldn't tell, but by the way Harry roughly grabbed Hermione's arm to leave, it didn't seem like Harry wanted her protection.


	4. Chapter 4

Quinn sat in the cold cell, absent-mindedly playing with her robe sleeves. She wondered what happened with her brother, if he had resisted their questioning or had confessed to all his crimes with glee. Quinn smiled vaguely when she knew it would be the latter. She did not smile because she was proud, but rather because that was how her brother was - unforgiving and unabashed. But still, she had made the Unbreakable Vow with her parents before they left for England. That she would protect her brother to the best of her ability from Aurors and that she would help him avoid capture. Through attempting to kill him for two years after the fall of Lord Voldemort, Quinn had done just that.

The cell door creaked open and Quinn sat up, collecting herself for another harsh questioning. She looked up, expecting to see the harsh glare of Harry Potter, and instead found her gaze quickly hitting the stone floor again when she realized it was Hermione Granger.

Hermione stepped in carefully, though her wand was noticeably tucked away. She did not feel it was necessary, especially when the captured was wandless, at least that's she told herself before she opened the cell door. The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had not felt Harry was impartial enough to watch over Quinn, so he had put Hermione in charge of her until Quinn's trial and eventual sentencing. Harry was furious at this decision and Hermione felt her heart drop - although she didn't know why, Hermione didn't trust herself around Quinn at all.

"H-hello," Hermione stammered, as she approached Quinn with a tray of food.

"Hi," Quinn replied, summoning all her strength to maintain her usual demeanor. She glanced at the tray of bread, cheese and water, and reluctantly picked up the bread and started eating. She _was_ hungry. "Thank you."

"Y-you're welcome." Hermione cursed herself inside her head and willed herself to stop stammering. "I suppose you're wondering what happened with Amycus."

Quinn stopped chewing at the mention of her brother. She nodded slowly.

"He was executed after an enthusiastic confession," Hermione said with a tinge of regret. "The Dementor's Kiss and then his body was killed."

Quinn's body seized up at the mention of the most painful way a wizard's body could be executed, then relaxed finally. At last, she was free of them.

"And what about me?" Quinn asked, picking up the mug of water. She gazed in the water knowingly. "Veritaserum?"

Hermione nodded. "We need to know what you've done, and they will sentence accordingly."

Quinn nodded understandably and drained the mug. There would be no question of her truth.

"Y-your name?" Hermione asked, her voice stammering again. She held tapped a clear glass orb to record this truth confession, and the orb swirled a light purple.

"Quinn Fabray. Daughter of Russell and Judy Fabray. Older sister to Amycus Fabray." Quinn answered flatly. She knew the Ministry would not be satisfied with short answers.

"And you are a witch?" Hermione pressed.

"Yes," Quinn replied, willing herself to describe everything, to hide nothing. " I attended William McKinley School of Magic before transferring to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry my sixth year, excelling in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration. I am able to transform into plants, though I am unregistered with the Ministry of Magic. My Patronus is a lamb."

"And did you convince the house-elves of Hogwarts to taint the teachers' foods with compliance potion?"

"Yes, though my brother Amycus wanted to kill them. I convinced him it would arouse suspicion if they were all to die."

"And your true motive?"

"I did not wish to kill anyone," Quinn confessed. She felt lighter afterward - she had never been able to tell anyone that.

Hermione paused in her questioning. Quinn's hard demeanor had faltered and she was now looking down at her forearm with the Dark Mark and stroking it. It seemed out of habit, rather than affection.

"But you were in Slytherin…" Hermione pressed on, though in a whisper.

"Because I am cunning, resourceful and my family is pure-blood," Quinn answered. "Slytherin is not a house of dark magic, otherwise it wouldn't have been created. The Sorting Hat actually wanted to put me in Ravenclaw, but..."

"You wanted Slytherin."

"Yes," Quinn said. "Well, my family wanted Slytherin."

Hermione tapped the swirling purple glass orb in her hand that was recording this encounter. The orb stopped swirling and returned to a neutral clear color. Hermione was overcome with sadness for this girl, who had been uprooted from her home in the States and whose fate had been decided before she even had the Sorting Hat placed on her head.

"You stopped recording," Quinn stated.

"Yes."

"But the veritaserum has not faded yet." Quinn looked at Hermione with a questioning look but was glad of the break. The confession of her betrayal to her family was more taxing than she realized, but Quinn would have thought an Auror would have thought this to have been a great opportunity. Her defenses weakened, a skilled Auror could have manipulated the situation to meet anything they wanted. But Hermione was not the standard Auror.

"Your mark," Hermione started, after a pause, reaching out with her hand. "May I?"

Quinn acquiesced and held her left arm out to Hermione, who had sat down next to her. Hermione's cool fingertips traced the permanent tattoo carefully, as though too much pressure would cause Quinn pain. Hermione's touch quickly caused goosebumps to ripple across Quinn's forearm, but Hermione didn't seem to notice.

"And you've tried…?"

"Everything," Quinn said. "Look…!"

Quinn had motioned half-heartedly for Hermione's wand, but did not expect the Auror to simply hand it over. Surprisingly, Hermione slowly placed her wand in Quinn's hand.

"_Sectumsempra!_" Quinn said suddenly, and Hermione flinched, but quickly realized Quinn had aimed the wand at her own forearm, creating three deep slashes which were now bleeding profusely.

"Why did you do that?" exclaimed Hermione, a mix of the usual worry and annoyance usually aimed at Harry and Ron. Hermione snatched her wand back and began murmuring incantations to stitch the skin back together.

"Because…" Quinn said, exasperated and breathless through the pain she had caused herself. "Look!"

While Hermione had healed most of the wound on Quinn's arm already, there were no scars where the tattoo had embedded itself in her skin. Evidently, as Quinn had showed them all before, she had done this numerous times.

Hermione rubbed the skin of Quinn's scarred forearm as to soothe away the past pain, and Quinn stared quizzically at Hermione's face. Suddenly she didn't fell as apathetic to death or imprisonment as she once did, because it would mean she would never get to have a moment like this again. A moment sitting next to this girl who felt sadness for her…

Hermione stood up abruptly and exited the cell. As Hermione looked back at Quinn briefly through the bars, Quinn thought she saw a hint of tears in her eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione did not know what she was feeling as she walked away from Quinn's cell and entered the Auror offices. She placed the glass orb carefully on her desk and sighed heavily.

"Well?" Ron asked, approaching Hermione's desk from his own. "Did you get it? The confession?"

"Yes, well," Hermione sputtered, collecting herself. She did not expect Ron to be waiting for her. "Some of it."

"What do you mean some of it?" Harry demanded, approaching her as well. Hermione had not noticed him reading a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in the corner of the office. "You had enough veritaserum for hours of interrogation!"

"Um, well," Hermione sputtered again, grasping for some excuse. "I-I spilled some on the way there. Sorry!"

"Spilled some?" Harry yelled, but he backed off when Ron glared harshly at him.

"Hermione," Ron said softly, taking Hermione's hands in his own. "What happened?"

"I-I don't know!" Hermione stammered. She felt an unexplainable need to hide, to go away. She stood up, dropped Ron's hands and began to walk quickly toward the giant fireplace in their office. With a swift cry for "Home!" she disappeared in a flash of green flames.

Hermione appeared in the fireplace of her London flat, and she quickly turned around to whisper a charm which did not allow Ron to follow her. She needed to be alone for a while. Hermione sighed heavily and sat down on a couch facing the fireplace. Why did Kingsley have to put her in charge of Quinn? Why couldn't she think straight when she was in Quinn's presence?

"_Accio yearbook!" _A leather-bound book flew off the one of Hermione's book cases and fell gently in her hands. It was of Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts, and she was suddenly remembering her first encounter with Quinn Fabray…

"Oof!" Hermione exclaimed as she ran into a girl with the green robes of Slytherin. Hermione had just tried to fend off the whining advances of Moaning Myrtle and had not paid attention to where she was going. "Sorry!"

"I'm sorry too," the calm voice of the blonde girl replied, picking herself up. She had a distinct American accent and carried a camera around her neck. "Can I take your picture? I'm starting a yearbook…"

"A yearbook?" Hermione asked while picking up textbooks and quills she had dropped.

"Yes, it was a tradition at my old school in America," she explained. "I think it would be fun here too. May I?"

"Um, sure," Hermione said, straightening herself up. She suddenly began trying to tame her frizzy hair when she finally met the gaze of the prettiest girl she had ever seen. "Al-alright."

"Thanks." The girl smiled demurely as she snapped Hermione's photo. "Can I have your name for the caption?"

"Her-Hermione Granger," Hermione stammered. Her palms were curiously beginning to sweat uncontrollably.

"Thanks Hermione Granger," the now familiar cool voice said in Hermione's memory. "I'm Quinn Fabray."

Quinn had turned and walked away at that point, leaving Hermione in the wisps of her evaporating presence. Hermione did not know what any of it meant - why her voice had started to falter, why her palms had become slick with sweat, or why she seemed unable to pull her eyes away from Quinn's disappearing figure. And now those feelings that Hermione had forgotten had surfaced again.

Did she carry some sort of enchantment charm around her? As sort of a protection? If that were the case, why weren't Harry or Ron affected? They had admitted she was pretty, but they were otherwise unfazed. Or perhaps she was part veela as Ron had suggested, but again, neither were affected…

At the same moment, in a very different environment, Quinn had been wondering the same thing. She also recalled the first time she met Hermione Granger and felt her cheeks flush when recalling asking Hermione for her picture. The yearbook had been her excuse, though she had kept Hermione's picture hidden in her _Hogwarts: A History_ textbook for two years before she left everything to follow Amycus. Quinn longed for that picture right now, as she had an insatiable desire to memorize all the features of Hermione's face.

_Stop it_, she scolded herself. _Stop. Her job is to put you in Azkaban. Or worse._

Quinn winced slightly at the thought of death. She had not feared it before like many Death Eaters - she thought it would have been a welcome relief. But these days her mind was very different.

The cell door creaked open again, and Quinn looked up hoping to see Hermione again. This time however, she met the harsh green eyes of Harry.

"What have you done to Hermione?" Harry demanded quietly, his wand raised.

"Nothing," Quinn answered dismissively. "Nothing at all."

Harry gritted his teeth. Though expected, that was not the answer he wanted. Harry glanced over to Quinn's food tray and saw the mug of water was empty. "You drank all of it?"

"Yes."

"Was any of it spilled?"

"No," Quinn replied. "I drank it all."

"So it still is running through you."

"Yes," Quinn said thoughtfully. "Probably for another ten minutes or so."

"Did you cast a spell when Hermione was in here?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Did you curse -"

"No!" Quinn interrupted, her voice suddenly very harsh. "I would never hurt her."

"Then what did you cast and why?" Harry pressed impatiently.

"_Sectumsempra_ to show her the tattoo can't be removed," Quinn said simply, holding up her left arm. Healed red scars still showed faintly on her skin.

"Are you loyal to Lord Voldemort? Do you still do his bidding after his death? DO YOU BELIEVE HE WILL RISE AGAIN?" Harry roared his last question, as if bursting out his own fears and flinging them at Quinn, who was taken back. Harry knew the last ten minutes of veritaserum were almost gone, and he needed to know - _now._

"No," Quinn said quietly looking down. "Voldemort is gone forever."

"Are you upset by this?" Harry questioned.

"No," Quinn half-laughed. "I'm very glad, actually."

"Then why do you seem to be sad?"

"Because I no longer wish to die."


	6. Chapter 6

Harry left Quinn's cell with a heavy heart. He did not know what to do. Harry was no longer full of hatred for Quinn - how could he, after she confessed she was not loyal to Lord Voldemort while under veritaserum? There was also the strange feeling prickling below the surface of the way Quinn and Hermione acted when in the same room. It appeared much the same way he had started acting toward Ginny when he no longer viewed her as Ron's little sister. Ron - Hermione was Ron's girlfriend, what was he supposed to do about that?

_Of course_, Harry thought bitterly. _There's not much to be worried about for long._

Harry knew that with the capture of the last two Death Eaters, the Ministry wanted to vanquish them as much as Harry wanted to - though unlike Harry, they were not merciful when faced with regret or even truth. He knew the Ministry wanted to make the last two Death Eaters shining examples of intolerance toward the dark arts.

Part of Harry greedily agreed, but he knew things weren't always as they seemed. His thought drifted toward Severus Snape who had secretly protected and aided him throughout his years to finally defeat Lord Voldemort. Quinn, at this point, seemed harmless and wanted nothing more than to be rid of her Dark Mark and fade into obscurity.

_With Hermione_, he supposed.

Harry held the confession orb in his hand, which he had kept under his robe while talking with Quinn. It swirled a deep purple color to signify the complete confession. He hoped for both Quinn and Hermione's sakes that it would matter.

The next morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the large court room of the Wizengamot. The Wizengamot had wanted to take care of Quinn quickly and swiftly, so as to let the public know all the Death Eaters were finally gone. _The Daily Prophet_ already had their printing presses ready once the sentence was announced. The Wizengamot seated on their high seats and in their dark purple robes seemed more intimidating than usual.

"She's innocent, you said, Harry?" Ron asked, clutching Hermione's less than enthusiastic hand. Hermione was visibly nervous and twitched her knee up and down anxiously.

"Yes," Harry said darkly, scanning the room full of wizards seemingly ready to clean the world of Death Eaters. "I hope they'll listen."

"Of-of course they will, won't they?" Hermione asked, her voice unnaturally high. Ron mistakenly took her nervousness for the death of an innocent and patted her twitching knee reassuringly, though he did not say anything.

The Minister of Magic, Kingsley, sat in the middle of the high chairs and tapped his wand on his desk steadily to signify the beginning of the trial.

The calm voice of Percy Weasley filled the room as he announced the prisoner who was now rising in chair in the middle of the courtroom. Quinn appeared chained to the chair with a few dementors close by.

"Quinn Fabray. Last known Death Eater. On trial for treason against the Ministry of Magic, as well as murder against Muggles."

"And how do you plead?" Kingsley's deep voice asked the prisoner.

"Not guilty," Quinn replied, and an instant murmur filled the court room.

Kingsley tapped his wand on his desk again for quiet. "I believe we have your confession, Miss Fabray."

"Yes, and I hope you will hear it."

The court room filled again with remarks against Quinn's retort. "_Disrespectful! Insolent girl! Fool!"_

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," Kingsley said, addressing the Aurors after the court had quieted once again. "You have the confession?"

"Yes, Minister," Harry said as the three stood up. "She was under veritaserum and therefore could not lie."

"…That we are aware of," an old wizard muttered under his breath. Hermione glared at him, but it went unnoticed.

Quinn breathed heavily as Harry handed the Minister the deep purple orb that held her truth confession. For a moment, she let her hope soar - Kingsley was a reasonable wizard, surely he would… Quinn looked around. She was not convinced the other fifty wizards would be as reasonable.

Kingsley tapped the purple orb with his wand and let Quinn's truth confession play clearly throughout the court room. There were unmistakable murmurs of disapproval when it heard she was unregistered with the Ministry with her Transfiguration abilities, surprise when it was revealed the Sorting Hat wanted to put her in Ravenclaw, the flicker of fifty pairs of eyes looking at her Dark Mark when it was mentioned it could not be removed, and finally the uproar of confusion when the confession ended with Quinn saying she was glad Lord Voldemort was gone but sad because she did not want to die.

Hermione tried to read their expression, each one of them - but there was such a flurry of emotions, she could not tell what Quinn's fate would be. Breathing deeply, she looked toward the center of the room where Quinn was chained and met her eyes. Quinn had been watching Hermione intently as the entire confession had played. She no longer had the picture, so while she had the chance, Quinn had been memorizing her face…

Kingsley tapped his wand a final time to signal silence. It was time for the verdict.

"All those in favor of declaring Quinn Fabray innocent of all charges, raise your wand."

Hermione's eyes quickly scanned the Wizengamot and counted wands. It only took a moment - only five wands were raised. Hermione's heart sank.

Kingsley paused as he lowered his wand. "And all those in favor of declaring Quinn Fabray guilty of all charges?"

"_NO!"_ Hermione had cried out involuntarily as she saw the rush of forty-five wands thrust themselves in the air, most of their owners smug with the final capture of the last Death Eater.

Kingsley was visibly stunned by the overwhelming majority against the evidence of a truth confession. He could not bring himself to say anything more. The old wizard who Hermione had glared at earlier, however, found his voice perfectly well.

"Quinn Fabray," his voice thundered. "You are found guilty of all charges, which warrants the highest of all sentences. Your punishment is the Dementor's Kiss, followed by execution. This will be carried out this afternoon. And good riddance to all Death Eaters."

Hermione knew she had screamed then, she knew Ron had grabbed her by the waist as she tried to run over the high tables to Quinn. But Quinn was already being lowered back below to her cell, the dementors guarding her getting brief tastes of her soul before they would feast in the afternoon.


	7. The End

"Hermione! Hermione! Bloody Hell, she's strong! Help me, will you, Harry?"

Hermione was still screaming as the wizards and witches of the Wizengamot had emptied the court room. Soon it was only Harry and Ron frantically trying to calm a hysterical Hermione.

"Hermione! _Hermione!_" Harry said, shaking her roughly. She finally stopped and looked at Harry with tear-filled eyes. "It's done. We can't do anything."

"We-we can find a time-turner," Hermione suggested tearfully, grasping in desperation. "The same thing we did with Sirius, Harry!"

"That won't work, Hermione," Harry said blankly. That was an entirely different circumstance, and they had the help of Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of all time.

"We'll-we'll Imperius the guards! We'll use Patronuses!" Hermione tried again.

"Hermione, you know that's illegal," Ron said. While he understood Hermione always wanted to help the innocent, he did not quite understand the desperation and despair Hermione carried in her voice.

"But Qu-Quinn…!" Hermione grasped Harry's jacket and buried her face in his chest, muffling her sobs. Despite her love of Ron, Harry had always seemed her source of comfort. Harry put his arms tightly around Hermione's shaking body.

"I know," Harry whispered. "I know."

After a few moments of allowing Hermione to find refuge, Harry pulled her away. "You still have a few hours before… before it happens. You should spend it with her."

Hermione nodded and wiped the tears running freely down her face with her sleeve. She stood up and walked toward the exit.

"What's going on with her?" Ron questioned Harry.

"Don't worry, it'll be over soon," Harry said, though his reassurance was empty.

Quinn sat in her cold cell stroking the Dark Mark her brother had tattooed permanently on her left forearm. It had been one of those tricks that happened when she had just woken up, before she trained herself to wake up without opening her eyes and feeling for her wand.

"My biggest mistake," she mused lightly out loud. _No_, her thoughts interrupted her. _Your biggest mistake was never to talk to Hermione Granger while at school. She could have helped you. You could have lo…_

Quinn's thoughts were brought back to the present when the cell door opened. To her surprise, Hermione Granger entered, as if willed by Quinn's thoughts. Quinn offered a smile, perhaps her first real smile in years, but Hermione's face was streaked with tears.

"You have an hour," Hermione's voice cracked.

"Is it that late already?" Quinn asked, shoving all her emotions below her characteristic cold exterior. _I am a Fabray…_

"They-they pushed it up by quite a few hours," Hermione found herself stammering again, but she did not stop herself. "I'm-I'm _so_ sorry…"

"Don't be," Quinn said softly, as Hermione approached to sit down next to her. "I knew this would happen."

Truthfully, Hermione did too, but she still clung to the happy endings she and her friends often worked for in their younger years. Unfortunately things did not always end happily.

"You," Hermione started. "You took my picture. For the yearbook."

"Yes," Quinn laughed, feeling her defensive demeanor melt away as Hermione remembered the first time they met. "The only yearbook Hogwarts ever had. It was a flop."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, as she joined Quinn's light laughter. "It was, wasn't it?"

The two looked at each other and burst into unexpected laughter that filled the prison cell. Perhaps it was to make up for all the laughter they could have shared but never would.

When the laughter died down and the somber atmosphere returned, Quinn reached over and swept a strand of hair away from Hermione's face. She let her hand linger on Hermione's cheek.

"I memorized your face," Quinn stated softly. " I-I kept that picture of you in one of my textbooks while I was at Hogwarts. But…I don't need a picture anymore."

At this Hermione burst into tears and threw her arms around Quinn, bringing her in a tight hug. Hermione needed to hold her and feel the solidity of Quinn's body in her arms. She needed this to remember Quinn was a real person, that she would never be only a memory.

"D-do you think it will hurt?" Quinn asked in Hermione's grasp. Her voice suddenly sounded childish. There didn't seem a need to pretend with Hermione anymore.

"I-I think the dementors are quite quick," Hermione lied regretfully. She didn't want her last words to Quinn to be a lie.

Suddenly dementors were heard opening the cell door.

"_NO!"_ Hermione swung her wand at the door and slammed the it shut. "_Sera semper!"_

The cell door became magically locked and the enchantment could only be undone by the enchanter. The dementors yelled at each other in frustration, then began banging on the door.

"You can't hold them off forever," Quinn whispered. She reached down and squeezed Hermione's hand. "It's okay. I'm-I'm ready to die."

Hermione's eyes looked imploringly into Quinn's, as if begging her to fight to live, but deep down Hermione knew it was impossible. _This is your last moment with her_.

Hermione grasped Quinn's face and brought their lips together.

They were engulfed in each other, and neither could get enough. Quinn's hands were on Hermione's waist, her back, her hair, her face, and Hermione's were doing the same. The loud banging and yells at the cell door faded away and the world seemed to stop...

They finally let go of each other - a second, a moment, an hour, an eternity later, both had their hands clasped on the other's face as they parted.

"You won't forget me?" Quinn whispered, her voice still child-like.

"Forget you?" Hermione asked incredulously. She raised her wand. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

Instead of a silver otter appearing, a little lamb bounded out from the tip of Hermione's wand. It ran a circle around them, then charged through the cell door, fending off the dementors for a few more precious moments.

Quinn kissed Hermione again. The last one, for all too soon the guards were back at the door. Quinn forced herself to separate from Hermione. Quinn slowly nodded.

Hermione pointed her shaking wand to the door. She could barely force out the incantation.

"_Alohomora._"

The next few moments were all a blur. The dementors entered the cell and lifted Quinn, taking her briskly away. Hermione remembered screaming again, but Harry and Ron were there once again to hold her back. She finally collapsed when the last view of Quinn walking away faded.

It was over quickly, as Hermione had promised. Kingsley had managed to commute the sentence to execution by the Killing Curse instead of the Dementor's Kiss. The dementors were visibly angry and still attempted to take Quinn's soul, but a silver stag and weasel Patronus appeared. They kept the dementors at bay while the hooded executioner gave the Killing Curse swiftly and quickly at Quinn's chest. When she crumpled softly to the ground, the Wizengamot cheered for the demise of the last Death Eater.

Afterward Hermione fell into a deep sadness, though Ron never fully understood why. Shortly after the execution, Hermione was immediately granted a transfer to the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, where she could finally make a difference in the treatment of house-elves. A few months of this rewarding work seemed to bring Hermione back to her normal self, though her eyes seemed to hold a tinge of sadness. When she and Ron were married and she gave birth to a daughter, Ron did not object when Hermione requested their daughter's middle name be Quinn.

"Are you happy?" Ron asked her, whenever she had a sad faraway look in her eyes.

"Oh yes, quite happy," Hermione would answer, almost automatically. "If-if you don't mind, I'm going to go look through my Hogwarts yearbook."

And he would relent happily, for after she spent a few moments flipping through the well-worn pages of their sixth year at Hogwarts, he would have his Hermione back. 

* * *

><p><em>Thanks everyone for your reviews! I like to write a whole story and put up a chapter or two every day so people don't have to wait too long for the ending, but also to build up a little anticipation. I'm planning to write a new Fabranger story in a few weeks set at McKinley High this time - hope you guys read that too :)<em>


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